Twenty Four
by glaceon
Summary: The girl occasionally visited him in the distortion world. Sometimes she was thirteen, and other times she was thirty, or anywhere in between. Cyrus found himself involved regardless.


Cyrus soon discovered that nothing in the distortion world made sense. Not just the obvious things like the backwards waterfalls and absence of gravity, but the sheer wrongness of the world slowly made itself known to Cyrus the longer he spent there.

The eerily blue space surrounding the landmasses stayed just that – a deep, endless blue. There was no concept of a day inside the world, only infinite nothing. Cyrus never felt tired, nor did he ever feel the need to eat or drink. It was as though everything had simply stopped inside the pocket as a place that existed outside of Palkia and Dialga's influence.

Without the presence of Giratina, the distortion world was even emptier.

In some ways, Cyrus was pleased with his new existence. It was almost exactly what he wanted. It was a world for himself, a world without emotions that was his and his alone. He was not burdened with the expectations and disappointments life outside the distortion world was filled with.

But it was not always exactly what he wanted. After all, he did not create this world for himself; he simply decided to live in it, and to make it his own. In reality, it was a world created by someone else – a pokémon that did not even want to inhabit it anymore.

However, the pokémon still visited sometimes. It visited with the girl – with the same girl who forced him to the world in the first place.

The first time she returned to the distortion world was an undeterminable time after she last left him there – the very first time either of them had entered the world in the first place. But when she stepped through that newly made portal, Cyrus was surprised. He didn't let it show on his face and greeted her with a blank stare, although it did nothing to deter her.

"So I bought you some hot chocolate from that cute little specialty shop in Snowpoint – not the place that makes the alcohol," she chatted away as she poured out two cups out of a thermos. "I guess you don't really need it to warm you up, but it's still comforting!"

She held out the cup of hot chocolate to him. He didn't take it. The giant pokémon swam through the cosmos behind her, rippling the nonexistent air in its wake.

He wondered if he could make it to the newly opened portal before it noticed.

"You don't want it?" the girl asked hesitantly. "I was just wondering, because it's kind of lonely here. I thought anything yummy and sweet would be good!"

He looked down at her for a beat, and the pokémon brushed by them.

"I do not require sustenance."

"Well duh," the girl responded with a giggle and took his meaning entirely the wrong way. "No one _requires_ hot chocolate. But it's good for the soul more than the body. Have it!" She shoved the cup into his hand unexpectedly, somehow not spilling a drop on him.

The girl left not long after, the undulating pokémon followed her and closed the portal behind it. She had left the thermos with him. He didn't drink any of the hot chocolate.

There was no way to tell the passage of time in the distortion world because time did not exist there, although if any concept of it was present, it did not act in the way Cyrus was familiar with.

It was true what he told the girl, that he did not require nourishment to live anymore. He also did not need to shave, or bathe. His hair never grew any longer, and his muscles did not grow weary with fatigue. Cyrus simply existed endlessly.

The hot chocolate never went cold.

—

The biggest indication of the lack of time flow in the world came in what felt like months after the first encounter with the child.

The telltale portal opened up first, and the monstrous pokémon glided through it exactly like last time. Except this time, a woman followed it.

Cyrus wasn't blind. The new woman obviously had some sort of relation to the girl. She had the same navy colouring as the girl did, but taller and older – perhaps in her thirties. Her gait was different, too. It was not the carefree sprint of the child, but the careful and deliberate steps of a woman who had seen more things than most.

But like the girl, she wore a red coat and a white scarf.

"I'm sorry, Cyrus," she started before he could say anything. He noticed she had tears in her eyes. "I know you said not to come here anymore, but I just—"

"—who are you?" he interrupted, "How did you get here?"

The woman's brow furrowed, tears drying up.

"What do you mean? You know how I got here. I got here the same way I always do – with Giratina."

"That means nothing to me," he said sternly. "I've never seen you before in my life."

"Don't be silly," the woman scolded, and for a moment Cyrus felt like a chastened child. "I don't know where you've acquired a sense of humour but it's not appreciated right now."

Cyrus ground his teeth in frustration.

"I'm never _silly_," he said scathingly. "I have no clue who you are, nor how you commanded the child's beast into getting you here. I suggest you leave immediately."

The woman stood stock still for a moment before she visibly crumpled before his eyes.

"This is it," she murmured to herself. Indecision flitted across her face, and Cyrus observed silently.

The pokémon swum through the space between them, and by the time it had passed, the woman looked as though she had made up her mind.

"My name is Dawn and you've met me before," she said with a quiet determination Cyrus had seen before. "I was eleven and you were trying to recreate the world. I stopped you, and you ended up in here."

"Impossible," he immediately rejected. "I just saw that child. She was just that – a child. You are a grown woman. Do not be absurd."

"You don't understand," she stressed. She went to reach out to him, to grab onto him, but his flinch made her stop. He noted the look in her eyes – that of a broken woman – but did nothing. "You understand nothing of this, Cyrus. This is _it_ for me."

"Why?" he asked, humouring her flatly. If the deranged woman wanted to uselessly plead her case he wasn't going to stop her.

"Because you told me it would," she said shakily, exhaling. "Because the third time I visited this place, you told me that it was going to be the last time you'd ever see me. You told me that _I_ had told you. You said—"

"You are making no sense, woman!" he exclaimed. He breathed in deeply, and exhaled. "You're spouting nonsense and I refuse to listen to it."

"No!" she yelled. "No, you have to listen to me – really _listen_, even if you don't believe me. It's important because you're going to tell me this later, and I'm going to _have_ to hear it."

He said nothing in reply, realising the futility of arguing against this woman who so clearly had to get something out.

"On my third visit to this world, you tell me that time runs differently here. You tell me that you won't be seeing me again, but that I'll see you," she inhaled. "I'm not going to take it well, but you're going to handle it really well and calm me down. I'm going to be sad, but I'll appreciate it in the long run."

"And when will this occur?" he asked dryly. "Since time runs differently, as you say."

"I don't know," she admitted. "The next time you see me I could be anywhere between eleven and thirty five. But ask her how many times she's seen you – if she says it's the third time – including when she caught Giratina – you have to tell her everything I'm telling you now."

He stayed silent for a moment while the woman gathered herself. She already looked more composed – stronger, too. Cyrus didn't know if she was telling the truth, but everything was pointing towards affirmative.

"Why?" he asked simply after a few minutes. "Why are these time restrictions in place? Why is today the last for you?"

The woman took a moment to consider the question before answering.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I'm just following what you told me back then. I've always figured that it's some sort of paradox. That it happens like this because it's _already _happened like this. That messing with time and space in here is bad news."

"Ridiculous," he scoffed, "Utterly ridiculous. Why follow these rules if they have no merit in reality? If you are so distraught at the thought of this being the last time you ever see me, simply return tomorrow. There is nothing stopping you from returning."

"But there is!" she yelled. This time she did not restrain herself and threw herself at him. Her arms wrapped around his middle as her head landed on his chest. Cyrus stood stock still, unmoving. "There's a reason for all of this, but you never told me why."

Cyrus gritted his teeth and pried her arms away from him.

"Do not presume to touch me, woman," he growled. "Raving lunatic or not, _never _presume to be allowed to touch me."

The woman cupped a hand over her mouth and attempted to stop the incoming sobs from escaping, but Cyrus heard them loud and clear. He didn't care.

"You say this is the last time you ever see me," he continued coldly, "I'm pleased. Leave, and never return. If you are who you say you are then you have been a thorn in my side for far longer than I would have ever dreamed. Truly, leave now and never return and I will exist happily for once in my life."

The woman gasped in a breath of air and tried not to sob any harder.

"W-Why are you…" she struggled, "Why are y-you being like this?" she asked, and although Cyrus assumed she was not looking for an answer he answered her anyway.

"Because I despise you," he answered simply.

He expected that the woman would have burst into tears at that admission, but it did the opposite instead. Her tears seemed to dry up, and her breathing evened out. She didn't look happy, but she wasn't crying either.

Cyrus wasn't sure whether to be pleased or annoyed.

"I know you don't believe me still," the woman said softly and began to rifle through her bag. She pulled out a single, plain pokéball. "But I hope this will convince you."

"What is it?"

"Giratina's pokéball," she answered. The woman turned towards the gigantic pokémon and nodded. With a loud cry, a portal opened up behind her. "I want you to have it."

"I do not want the creature anymore," he growled. "It's hardly worth the trouble."

"It's no trouble. Here, it's yours – no questions asked. He'll do what you say, I promise."

She hesitated for a second before gently taking a hold of his hand, and deposited the pokéball into it softly.

"You can even return him to his pokéball – he won't mind. Just let him out every now and again, okay?" Cyrus said nothing in return, but pocketed the pokéball regardless. "I'm going to go now. I don't know if I'll ever see you again, so this might be goodbye."

"Farewell," he replied coldly, and said nothing more.

The woman turned on her heel and walked through the portal, and only looked back once.

It closed behind her, perhaps forever.


End file.
